The foundry deck bustled with feverish activity. Archmagos Marcus-018 and the hundreds of Tech-Priests under his command had plunged into religious fervor. In their eyes, the Short-Jump Engine blueprints Liu Zhipeng had bestowed upon them were nothing less than the Holy Book delivered by the Omnissiah himself.
"Sacred geometry! 01010000011001010111001001100110011001010110001101110100!" Marcus-018 waved his six mechanical appendages, directing enormous cranes and Servo-skulls as they hoisted sets of brand-new engine components into the Hammer of God's Engine Room. "Faster! The sloth of mortal flesh is blasphemy against the incarnation of the Omnissiah! We shall let the Saint's radiance drive the Imperium's warships!"
Countless Tech-Priests and Servitors worked frantically while chanting binary hymns. They dismantled the Warp Engines that had struggled to function under the "silence" field, then installed the new engines, shimmering with blue energy, as carefully as if handling sacred relics. The entire foundry district echoed with the roar of machinery and fervent prayers.
Over those three days, Liu Zhipeng slowly made his way through every corner of the fleet.
He visited the medical bay, packed with wounded soldiers. It had been filled with groans and an atmosphere of despair. Under the influence of the "soul isolation network," the soldiers' bodies and wills had become exceptionally fragile. Their wounds healed slowly, and many had even died in their sleep as their wills collapsed.
But as Liu Zhipeng walked past row after row of beds, the gentle glow of [primordial divine flame] radiating from him fell upon every soldier like warm sunlight.
Faces contorted by agony gradually relaxed.
Soldiers struggling through nightmares began to breathe steadily.
Warriors who had lost all hope after losing their limbs once again felt the will to live kindle in their eyes.
A young Guardsman whose legs had just been amputated stared blankly at the ceiling. As